“I had known, you know.”
Yeo-hee recounted part of her past to Seoyeon.
How she came to be with her parents.
The way love blossomed between them.
“People’s dreams are sometimes decided by surprisingly insignificant things, you know.”
Yeo-hee was also like that.
Until then, singing was merely a hobby for Yeo-hee.
She had never even considered making it her career.
“I was in the Gaming Club, but I never thought my songs would be used as an OST.”
Then, suddenly, someone interjected with those words.
“You sing well. It would be perfect if we put it in the OST.”
It was truly nothing significant.
“Yeo-hee, you sing well.”
It was just that one line.
Without her realizing it, she was holding a guitar, and when she came to her senses again, she had become a singer.
“Of course, who says it matters.”
He never spoke without meaning.
Someone who didn’t easily praise others, thus his words seemed to resonate even more.
Since he said she sang well, she felt the need to truly become great.
As if she had suddenly become an extraordinary person.
Perhaps, that was why she continued walking this path.
“I would have never guessed that I’d still remember those words all these years.”
Yeo-hee looked at Seoyeon.
Her face seemed lost in deep thought.
“Isn’t it tiring?”
Seoyeon carefully asked, honestly finding it hard to empathize with the emotions tied to such thoughts.
But faintly, she felt as if she understood.
Like her own past life.
It was a recent discovery.
Seoyeon had always liked herself a lot.
But she had no idea her fondness included her past self.
For Seoyeon, the past was filled with not-so-good memories.
“Even I don’t know.”
In response to Seoyeon’s inquiry, Yeo-hee’s face expressed bewilderment.
Was it tiring? Perhaps.
But the shape of love differs from person to person, making it impossible to set a rigid boundary.
What was sure was…
“It’s just that, I can’t forget.”
To the extent of lingering attachment.
“Whenever I see her happy, I feel a considerable amount of joy.”
Frankly, Yeo-hee thought she would never see him again.
But watching the aired [Golden Orphan], her opinion changed.
Upon seeing them on TV, a prickling sensation stirred within her.
Their collective happiness brought her peace and joy.
A longing to meet again arose.
Of course, without revealing her lingering attachment.
“Just this much.”
This was all that Yeo-hee could answer to Seoyeon’s question.
Since the form of love varies by person, the rest was something Seoyeon had to think about on her own.
Clearly, Seoyeon was asking because of the role she’d taken on this time.
With that answer from Yeo-hee, Seoyeon nodded slowly.
For some reason, she thought she might understand.
Not just Yeo-hee’s story but also the thought that perhaps she shared similar feelings.
She realized this during her previous appearance on [Masked Singer].
That there was no need to be overly anxious.
And that anxiety stemmed from Seoyeon’s past life.
From her past self.
Just as Yeo-hee held lingering attachment.
So did Seoyeon.
“Unlike the past, it’s the opposite now.”
Seoyeon chuckled while putting on the makeup of ‘Kasugayama Yuina’ from [Gyeongseong Yeong-nyeo].
Her reflection in the mirror, drenched in dazzling makeup, appeared not as Seoyeon but as Yuina.
It was a one-sided love.
Certainly not romantic love between lovers.
It was her mother’s unilateral love for her.
Holding a child who didn’t empathize with that love.
For a lifetime.
She gave love without expecting reciprocation.
And it wasn’t until Seoyeon thought about it after being reborn that she realized it.
“The teacher used to say…”
When she closed her eyes, an old voice resurfaced.
“Usually, people can’t even express themselves.”
Said while hugging her tightly.
“To dress oneself and mimic others in acting is impossible.”
Because it wasn’t simply about understanding emotions, but about not even knowing how to express them.
That was what he used to say, that seeing many things doesn’t necessarily mean one could do it.
“You’re special.”
Though she couldn’t empathize with that emotion, that statement must have left its mark.
Just like Yeo-hee said, a trivial phrase can move people.
Surely back then, her mother desired for Seoyeon to become an ordinary person who looked to her.
And now, it’s the opposite.
Seoyeon thinks that, in the form of acting, she’s doing the same thing now.
Lingering attachment.
Certainly, Seoyeon had harbored this emotion from long ago, only she wasn’t aware of it.
“Somewhat, I understand.”
Of course, Yuina’s emotions were different, they said.
Not the parental-love relationship but the romantic love between lovers.
A love that wanted to become lovers.
A desire to possess and dominate him.
Seoyeon couldn’t fully comprehend this feeling yet.
But since there were various forms of love,
Seoyeon decided to interpret it in her own way.
Yuina’s emotions.
Why she decided to let go of Yeon Seonye.
Why she blessed the happy Michiko, whom she could’ve quite reasonably hated.
“Just…”
It was probably because she wished for happiness.
Could there even be a reason for it?
Seeing someone cry is sorrowful.
Because she’s seen too much.
Though she didn’t realize it at the time, she knows now.
“Your words are correct.”
And so, Yuina says.
“It was my lifelong wish. To avenge the betrayal of my parents and to kill the girl who took everything.”
Amanabi Michiko.
The hated woman who took everything from her.
She wanted to take everything back, perhaps even her life.
But, now she couldn’t do that anymore.
“To start with, she kept appearing in my view.”
She had brought her initially for this reason.
A slightly brash and dense Korean woman who didn’t know her place.
Someone who wouldn’t seem out of place even if she were dead anytime.
Just a pawn to be used and discarded.
“Her constant chatter. That annoying voice.”
Wavering, Yuina clutches the arm of Isamu, who’s holding her.
“It was her smiling face.”
Even though that smile wasn’t directed at her.
Even though it was directed at the woman who had taken everything from her.
Still, Yuina didn’t want to see that smile disappear.
Could it have started when this girl unknowingly helped her?
“I know I shouldn’t, but…”
It was a lifelong grievance.
But she felt the scorching flames of her vengeance gradually extinguishing.
The hatred didn’t stir as intensely as before.
“And yet…”
Yuina gazes at Isamu with a forlorn smile.
“I can’t.”
That’s all she could say.
Though her head was full of thoughts, it was all she could express.
Isamu’s eyes wavered as he observed her.
He had realized—
Yuina had no turning back.
He had witnessed the moment their carefully nurtured puppet broke.
Isamu couldn’t empathize with Yuina’s emotions.
His jaw trembled, his eyes wide with bloodshot irritation.
Tak!!
He shook off Yuina’s hand gripping his arm and turned his back on her.
Shocked, Yuina collapsed in her place, but he didn’t even glance back.
He walked away with heavy steps.
Because if she couldn’t do it, then it was his duty.
“Isamu.”
Fallen forlornly, Yuina gazed at his back and opened her tear-filled eyes sharply.
Wobbling, she stood up and glared in the direction he had disappeared to.
“So, Yeon Seonye, you were right all along.”
In the end, the one who helped her was her.
She had trusted Isamu too.
But she was sure now by his displayed behavior.
The true enemy.
What she had to do.
And just like that,
One scene concluded.
As the director Baek Min called out ‘Cut,’ a moment of silence enveloped the filming set.
The intensity of their recent performances explained this silence.
Especially Jo Seohi, who was to perform next, widened her eyes.
This ‘Yuina’ was far more striking than the one she had seen before from Seoyeon.
The type of performance she once saw in Cha Sooah’s acting.
She hadn’t expected to witness it at this place today.
The scene, which was merely a recital of lines, felt as powerful as a climax.
Of course, this didn’t mean Seoyeon alone was excellent.
“Lee Sang-soo actor, your acting… was truly impressive, but today it was on another level.”
Even though he had fewer lines, Lee Sang-soo had perfectly conveyed the anger of Isamu simply through expressions and actions.
Apparently, this wasn’t just Soohi’s perspective.
Lee Jiyeon also looked considerably astonished.
Because this was the first time Jiyeon had seen Seoyeon perform like this at the scene.
Though she had seen many performances before, it was the first time experiencing such an intense emotional act.
“Perhaps, without intention, it was method acting halfway through.”
Seoyeon diving this deep into a character wasn’t common.
Especially after her development, method acting seemed unnecessary unless required.
“Maybe it wasn’t deliberate.”
Seohi thoughtfully observed Seoyeon, who still stood in place, eyes closed, as if composing her emotions.
Certainly, they hadn’t seen a single tear from Yuina just now.
But everyone in the room could feel it.
As though Yuina had been sobbing her heart out.
Especially Director Baek Min, who repeatedly checked the footage he had just captured, couldn’t help but be amazed.
After all, it was somewhat important, but he didn’t expect it to be captured this well.
Without any exaggerated actions, it had felt like watching a musical or play, immersing even himself as the director.
“Are you okay, Seoyeon?”
Approaching the quietly standing Seoyeon, Lee Sang-soo asked gently because actor Jeong Eun-seon had worried so much.
“Yes.”
Slightly opening her eyes, Seoyeon appeared fine.
Her eyes were slightly red, but that was usual.
In reality, Seoyeon wasn’t in particularly bad condition.
It was just that she felt her mental strength slightly drained.
Slight discomfort had arisen from the emotional fluctuation.
“Especially, the next scene is from a past perspective, so…”
Shooting scenes out of order like this could be a little troublesome.
Hence, Seoyeon needed to settle her emotions.
It felt like diving deeply into the ocean after a long time.
Not an aquarium but the real ocean.
It was a very rare occasion.
“Joo Seoyeon.”
Lee Jiyeon and Jo Seohi had approached from somewhere.
Especially Jiyeon, her face was brimming with much to say.
“You should act like that when you’re with me.”
An odd remark.
As if she’d been slacking when acting with her.
Of course, Seoyeon had never done a lackluster job when acting with Jiyeon.
She always gave her best—her motto.
“That… we should still check.”
It was Soohi who replied after observing their conversation quietly.
She clearly knew what kind of acting Jiyeon was referring to.
In short, it was romantic acting.
Their forthcoming scene was a rather passionate romantic one.
But Soohi knew Seoyeon was deeply concerned about romantic acting—difficult in her own way.
So, she worried Jiyeon might mistakenly think Seoyeon was taking it lightly.
“Don’t worry.”
Contrary to Soohi’s concerns, Seoyeon confidently smiled and said,
“I’m confident.”
“…”
Romantic acting? Soohi felt a bit uneasy about it.
Nonetheless,
Recalling Seoyeon’s recent acting, Soohi laughed.
After all, today’s performance truly was excellent.
*
YHJ Broadcasting Station in Japan.
Recently, they had been examining videos sent from Korea.
Compiling various clips related to Seoyeon to create a program coinciding with the [Gyeongseong Yeong-nyeo] premiere.
When suddenly,
“Ah, hello!”
Several employees greeted enthusiastically.
A group of individuals had arrived.
Seeing the just-entered director, they murmured.
“That’s the…”
“Yes, the director participating in this film production.”
The director.
But he wasn’t Japanese.
He was a fair-haired Caucasian.
Highly unusual for the Japanese broadcasting station.
An Academy Award-winning director.
His most recent film hadn’t lived up to his reputation, but he was undoubtedly one of the most renowned directors in America.
Invited to bring new winds into the Japanese film industry, he was exploring the YHJ station with interest.
Unsure who to address, they were flustered.
Clearly, this was someone “invited” in a grand manner.
If they upset him and if, by some chance, he refused to participate in the movie, it would lead to a very problematic situation.
“Uh, this way, Director.”
Finally, they seated and began the official meeting.
They introduced several Japanese actors planned to participate in the movie by showing various clips.
“Uh, the female lead of this movie is Koto Reika. Her acting skills have been fully proven…”
The YHJ station played clips from the drama [First Love Moment] directed by Kakeba Hiro.
It was Reika’s most recent drama.
Since it was well-received for her performance, they assumed the director would approve.
“Hmm.”
But he watched with an extremely uninterested expression.
No interest at all.
Even while Reika gave a strong performance, there was no reaction.
In fact, he frowned.
“I see.”
Everyone instinctually thought this was bad.
Should they choose someone other than Koto Reika as the female lead?
Honestly, among young actresses, was there anyone who could outperform Koto Reika?
They could think of no one.
But judging by his response, it seemed imperative they seek another actor.
While considering playing another clip, suddenly,
“Wait.”
“Uh?”
“Wait. Wait!”
At the director’s words, all attention focused, and they tensed.
Was he refusing to film?
He had already watched with a disgruntled look from the start.
They were able to bring him to Japan only because of an astronomical fee.
But if he wasn’t satisfied even with that, he could leave anytime.
“Who’s this Japanese actor?”
“Yes! Uh, which actor?”
“This scene comes after the one with Ms. Koto…”
This scene was the most discussed recently from [First Love Moment].
In the playground, females casually chatting with a dejected male protagonist.
Honestly, this scene held no significant importance.
Just a plot device to deepen the conflict.
However, the director pointed with his finger directly at a character.
“Specifically, this Japanese actress.”
At realizing who he was pointing at, everyone was stunned.
Because the actress he pointed to wasn’t Japanese.
